


The Emperor's Shadow

by Etched_in_Fire



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Guy AU, Cerinians, Conscripted, Drabble, Gen, Gratuitous SF2 references, Lylat Wars, Oneshot, Sabre, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-04-03 17:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etched_in_Fire/pseuds/Etched_in_Fire
Summary: In an alternate timeline where Cerinia is absorbed into the Venomian Empire, Krystal works as a special operative under Emperor Andross.  Tasked with capturing the prehistoric titan, the Monarch Dodora, Krystal is deployed to the wild jungles of Fortuna on a mission that will test her skills and her resolve for the empire that conquered her homeland.
Kudos: 6





	The Emperor's Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone AU drabble exploring the idea of Krystal as an elite soldier in Andross's army in the Lylat Wars, suggested as a prompt. I took it a bit further and had the Cerinians working for Venom after being conquered. 
> 
> I wanted to use a lot of Star Fox 2 and Dinosaur Planet references since I haven't gotten to play with that side of the series as much. There's also some extra easter eggs that are not-so-subtle nods to games related to the SF series.
> 
> I don't plan on exploring this more, so consider this a oneshot-- just a little bitty peek into an alternate universe. Maybe I'll come back to this idea again in the future if I feel like mixing it up a bit.

It was said that eons ago, Fortuna had seen its first settlers from the Origin Planet of Animus. They had built their homes in ziggurats and temples, their cities dwarfed by the titanic jungle trees that stood so high that their canopies nearly blotted out the sun. The wildlands around them teemed with giants who reigned with bestial tyranny, constantly warring with each other to claim the title of monarch. Thousands had risen. Thousands more had fallen. And soon enough there had been one that stood above them all—the Monarch Dodora. Further legend had claimed it was the son of a sky god, born from the womb of the largest, cruelest serpent that had dared coil about Fortuna’s jungles. Fate had been cruel to it from its first breath, damning it with dual heads that ever bickered. Its temper flared from its imprisonment to its sibling. And since time immemorial, it craved violence.

When she had been given her mission of subduing the ancient overlord, Krystal had known it would be likely the most difficult task of her life. Still, she had accepted it with grace and enthusiasm. A high difficulty mission meant a chance to impress, after all, and she was ever striving to rise above the other special operative captains. She was a woman with dreams, with goals. There were people counting on her back home—back on Cerinia. People that she had not seen since this brutal war began. 

She sat in her vehicle—a crimson and white painted ship crafted by the empire’s best scientists back on Venom City. They called it the Taranis after a thunder god from the folklore of a distant planet. Its four medium-sized wings curved back and its nose opened into twin prongs that could channel energy at an enemy with the click of a button and enough fuel cells. Perched atop a branch belonging to one of the gigantic trees, she looked no more menacing than a fly on the wall. But she knew herself more capable than that.

“_Rudze. Sedboh. Kamroh_,” She spoke to her three teammates—a bear, a squirrel, and a tiger, respectively. “_A um ad fejakaed. Jodt kxo Monarch mo nuo._ [I am in position. Send the Monarch my way]”

“_Idtohjkeet, Captain Bihaji_. [Understood, Captain Krystal]” came the reply from Rudze’s deep, throaty tones.

The vixen exhaled. And now, it was the waiting game. She had been sent to Fortuna with a crew of about forty. Fearing what would happen in the event they failed, Krystal had ordered for the bulk of her troops to follow her planetside, leaving a skeleton crew aboard their frigate. She had given the majority of her troops to her three elites, keeping a small group for herself. Like a predator with its prey, her elites would nip at the heels of their quarry and then Krystal would lead the pincer strike—aiming for the jugular, so to speak. The Monarch Dodora would lose its crown… and the Emperor would be pleased with his newest pet.

Explosions in the distance heralded the start of their desperate plan. Krystal’s teal gaze burned forward, towards the setting sun. This was a land of primal energy. A land of chaos that the Emperor would shape into order and reason. He would harness the Monarch’s power. He would use it to push back the Cornerians and win freedom for the Lylat System. Freedom through power.

Alien birds took to the searing orange and red skies. Their screams were shrill, causing her fur to raise on her nape. They screeched warnings of danger, but it was too late. Krystal could feel the Monarch’s energy well before it appeared on her radar in the form of a massive red dot. The king of the jungles was moving, clearly shaken by the explosives the Venomian army had strewn about the large trees near the most populated watering hole. 

“_Kxo Monarch aj ed kxo melo. Xo aj giako cuhwo. Uho oei sohkuad kxaj nacc nehb, Captain?_ [The Monarch is on the move. He is quite large. Are you certain this will work, Captain?]” Kamroh asked over the communication channel.

“_Ak mijk._ [It must]”, she replied.

The trees in the distance rustled as though their ancient trunks were twigs being disturbed by a gale. Her teal eyes flicked to her radar for a brief moment, confirming that it was the Monarch in motion. A deafening roar shook the branch beneath her. Exhilaration coursed through her limbs, heart racing in anticipation of the hunt. The creaking of branches and tree trunks crunching were so loud that she _felt_ them in her chest. 

“_Wok houto! _[Get ready!]” she called to her squadron.

Hastily, she spurred the Taranis into a gradual, straight vertical ascent, its landing gear tucking neatly back into its hull. She hovered for a moment, feeling the controls under her palms. On Cerinia, they had flown ships, but the Taranis was a completely different story. Though she had high marks in training on the flight simulators, piloting a real plane with real stakes felt… strangely heavy. Ears back, she silently wished she could go back to her on-foot missions, with her staff and reflexes to guide her. 

_ Expert pilot or not, I have a job to do. And worrying isn’t going to get it done._

Her engine revved, the tail of her ship alight with fuchsia flame. The vixen’s eyes danced between the beeping radar and the jostling trees to her right. A loud grunt and the _whooshing_ flap of wings made her dig her fingers into the joystick. It was any moment now. 

The Monarch Dodora broke through the tree tops, soaring high into the heavens with twin enraged heads. Its left head snapped at a few birds that strayed too close, snagging one unfortunate soul and devouring it with a simple gulp. The right head screeched out as the titan ascended further into the sky. Its feathered wings stretched out, casting a domineering shadow over the Fortunan jungles. Somehow, despite all of her mission preparations, the vixen found herself in awe of the creature’s size. 

_ The people of this planet worship the Monarch as a god. And now I see why. It defies expectations. _

Shaking her head, the vixen steeled herself, watching the Monarch fly closer to her hiding spot. When its shadow had nearly blotted out the sun, she knew it was time to act.

“Now!” Krystal yelled.

Aiming the forked nose of her plane at a gap between the thick branches, Krystal took in a deep breath and then hit the accelerate. The Taranis shot forward like lightning, breaking from the canopy and into the dying light. The radar’s high pitched scream filled her ears, warning her of an incoming collision as she zipped towards the avian monstrosity’s dual heads. A shot to one head from her central energy beam, she reasoned, would be enough to stun its flight. One shot. That was all she needed. Heart afire with adrenaline and hope, the vixen pulled the Taranis into a straight flight up the side of the Monarch’s left neck.

“_Nuksx eik!_ [Watch out!]” Kamroh’s voice alerted her just moments before the beast’s head swung. Krystal swerved the plane out of the way in time to evade careening into the ancient bird’s neck. She pulled back, angling the Taranis near the curve of the Monarch’s wing. The right head swung to look back at her, its feral yellow eyes blazing with primal, unspeakable rage. As its beak opened, she could sense power swelling within it. She braked, letting her ship pass along the creature’s spine. The light from fire illuminated her cockpit.

_ It can breathe fire!? No one said anything about that!_ _Damn. I hope that didn’t hit anyone below._

Too scared to even speak, Krystal pursued the Monarch Dodora, cursing silently at her failed chance to stun its flight. The Taranis shot after the feathered fiend like a streak of lightning, keeping up with its impressive pace. She pulled up, trying to get level with the creature’s head. Her radar blared a warning just a few moments before the Monarch’s snakelike tail struck the Taranis from below, sending her tumbling sideways. She tried to steady the joystick and the ship with all of her might, feeling her stomach lurch with nerves and fear both. When it had finally stabilized, the titan had begun to leave her behind. Air hissing with her exhale, Krystal chased after the Monarch Dodora at full speed.

“Captain, we have our nets at the ready. Just waiting on your signal,” one of the Venomians said to her through the intercom. “We’re able to keep ahead of it no problem. Just can’t keep up with its firepower in our Borzoi Mark IIs.”

“Roger that. Keep a steady pace ahead of the Monarch,” she instructed the soldier. She flipped her intercom over to her three elites. “_A tat dek bden ak seict rhoukxo vaho… _[I did not know it could breathe fire…]”

“Hah! _Zijk udekxoh kxadw kxo Venomians vuacot ke kocc ij. Kofasuc._ [Hah! Just another thing the Venomians failed to tell us. Typical.]” Sedboh remarked snidely.

“Sedboh. _Dek den._ [Not now]” Krystal scolded him, pressing the Taranis in a boost after him. “Kamroh, Sedboh. _Boof kxo sxujo roxadt ak. Mubo jiho ak nacc dek kihd uheidt. _[Keep the chase behind it. Make sure it will not turn around.]”

A few more explosions beneath them spurred the Monarch faster, its screams of rage louder than before. The Taranis shot towards the beast’s twin heads. She squeezed on the trigger, holding it so it powered up a shot from the opening in her hull’s nose. Once the tip of her plane’s nose was alight with furious pink light, she fired at the Monarch’s left head. It missed by what felt like inches and the beast’s head turned to face her, its mouth erupting with fire. She circled the bird, boosting to get in front of it then U-turning to directly face it. A jet of raging red flames greeted her on her approach back towards the Monarch but she dodged it deftly. Fire blazed directly over her, obscuring her view… and yet, also, obscuring the Monarch’s. Eyes flashing wide with realization, she boosted low, letting the fire conceal the Taranis as she rocketed towards the bird’s face.

When the fire had dissipated, she had closed in—so fast that she felt her heart nearly stop as the Taranis approached the beast’s lethal, curved beak. She squeezed the button, aimed, and fired—directly into the bird’s gaping maw. Energy wrapped around its head and neck, consuming the titan’s body gradually with flashes of fuchsia lightning. The roars that resounded now were beyond deafening, so deep that Krystal felt her bones tremble. She flew above the stunned Monarch then circled around to survey the situation.

“Nice! A hit!” one of the Venomians joyfully yelled over the radio.

“It’s not over yet!” Krystal warned them as the light faded and the Monarch began to recover—albeit noticeably slower. The head that had been hit drooped lower, its eyes wide with crazed malice. 

“Another few hits should do it. And then we can haul it back to Venom for safekeepin’!” the Venomian soldier continued.

“All we gotta do is keep it going this—Hey! Wait, it’s doing something different!” another Venomian chimed in over the intercom.

The Monarch Dodora turned, both of its mouths open. White-hot flames began to pour out from within, tickling over the treetops and igniting them. Krystal pushed the Taranis out of the way, the flames lapping at the back of the starfighter. Heart thudding in her chest, she circled the bird as it chased after her, beaks snapping in wild anger. 

“Captain. _A kxadb oei muto ak mut._ [I think you made it mad],” Sedboh remarked with a wry smirk.

Fearful, Rudze yelled out, “_Te dek jcen tend, de mukkoh nxuk!_ [Do not slow down, no matter what!]”

“_Thun akj vaho!_ [Draw its fire!]” Krystal ordered to her three elites. She toggled her intercom back to the Venomian forces. “Fan out in the jungles—keep low, away from the fire. When it’s been stunned, move on it with the nets.”

“Roger that, Captain!” came the dutiful reply.

Fire coursed after the Taranis but by now, Krystal had become accustomed to its blaringly bright light. She pulled upwards, U-turning to get a direct shot at the Monarch’s heads. The vixen pressed down on the energy charge, releasing it as soon as the right head fell into her crosshairs. A trail of flames followed her but as soon as the beam struck the titan, its fire breath sizzled away. Screams tore through the sky, piercing her eardrums, piercing her thoughts. Despite not reaching out mentally to the beast, she could _feel _its agony, its primordial, pained thoughts bombarding her mind like a torrential deluge. The vixen felt her breath catch in her throat, eyes snapping wide as she struggled to fight through the flood of emotions emanating from her quarry.

_ Eye on the goal. Don’t let—_

“Our energy meters are showing that the Monarch is weakening!” a Venomian soldier said enthusiastically over the intercom. Krystal could not find it in herself to share his joy.

She could feel how painful the Taranis’s weaponry was on the ancient avian. She could feel its eons-long rage. She could feel how sharp its talons were, how its tongue thirst for her blood, how its beaks longed to crush her tiny metal Starfighter into countless pieces of scrapmetal. Her heart’s beating kept her focused, like a metronome. 

_ Don’t let it consume you._

The Taranis passed just above the creature’s screaming dual heads. Krystal steered it away to get a wide berth as she calculated her next move. The bird’s wings flailed wildly. The sky began to darken, grey-brown smoky clouds assembling seemingly from thin air. Krystal felt her heart flutter with realization. Without even concentrating on her surroundings, she could feel the swell of magic coating the Monarch like an invisible veil. Spiraling winds began to drop from the sky, forming twisters that tore through the branches and trees below. Their drafts pulled on the Taranis and Krystal quickly maneuvered away from the closest one, her fingers in a death lock upon her ship’s controls.

_ The weather is changing… and the fire breath. Of course. The titans here have learned how to use magic. No wonder the Emperor has his eye set on the Monarch. It practically is a weapon all on its own, _Krystal thought fearfully.

“Change of strategy,” Krystal announced over all intercoms. “I want the soldiers with the nets to fall back until it is safe to approach the Monarch. Chasers—open fire on the Monarch’s wings. Try to keep it from making those tornadoes if you can.”

_ If I can hit it again, maybe it will stop. The only problem is…_

Enraged, the Monarch Dodora flew upwards, wingspan fully unfolded. Red lasers from the Venomians fired up at it—she saw Kamroh, Rudze, and Sedboh’s ships among them on her radar. If they were having any effect, she could not see it, or sense it for that matter. The Monarch’s next roar declared its sovereignty in primordial tongues, its yellow eyes slowly turning blood-red with wrath. Giant trees began to uproot, torn clean from the earth by the Monarch’s vicious winds. Stone and dirt fell into the gales, subjected to gravity no longer.

_ If we do not act fast, the beast will destroy the planet and everything on it._

"Sedboh,” Krystal flipped her intercom to speak directly to the squirrel. “_Te oei xulo udo remrj? _[Do you have any bombs?]”

“_Ooux, ooux, u von. Nudk mo ke...?_ [Yeah, yeah, a few. Want me to...?]” Sedboh replied with a haughty smirk.

“_Fcoujo_. [Please.]” replied the vixen.

The squirrel zipped out of the canopies below, dodging a twister as he did. She saw the bomb launch from his plane—a small dot that soared straight into the Monarch Dodora’s left wing. It burst like a firework, though still small compared to the titan’s hulking body. At once, the avian, its wing noticeably charred, began to pursue Sedboh. Krystal felt herself gasp as the beast flew down towards the squirrel’s tiny Venomian vessel. He boosted just in time to avoid the Monarch’s right beak, the other head screaming angrily.

“_Oei muo ro ed ke jemokxadw. _[You may be on to something.]” Sedboh remarked thoughtfully.

“Kamroh, Rudze! _Idcoujx oeih remrj uk kxo Monarch Dodora's nadwj udt vook. _[Unleash your bombs at the Monarch Dodora's wings and feet.]” Krystal instructed.

As her three elite flew upwards, the ancient avian turned to face them, beaks snapping. Krystal used the moment to dash forward in the Taranis, weaving between two tornadoes. She chased the enraged bird, looping up and around its large feathered wings and towards its back. Squeezing hard on the trigger, she aimed her crosshairs for the back of one of its heads, releasing it when she knew it would not miss. The left head was hit. The right turned and lashed out towards her, the red of its irises nearly drowning out its slit-like black pupils.

_ What!?_

The beak kept coming, despite being cloaked in the stun beam. Krystal gasped, willing the Taranis to move and feeling it start to lurch but it was too late. Bone scraped on metal and the world became a tumbling mess. She screamed as the Taranis was shaken, her head falling forward so fast that it nearly struck the console in front of her. Her entire view in the cockpit suddenly was flooded with the sky and then, inexplicably, the Taranis was falling—horizontally, towards one of the twisters. 

The Taranis’s screen in front of her flashed red. Sputtering, the engines were trying to sort themselves out. The left laser cannon was missing. The left wing pair was detached. The hull had sustained several scrapes. She tried desperately to straighten the Taranis out, kicking it eventually into a boost towards the myriad of treetops below. The vixen pulled heftily back on the joystick, peeling up at the last minute before colliding into the side of a large Fortunan tree. Wobbling as it climbed back into the sky, the Taranis’s computer system blared that it had sustained critical damage.

“_Uho oei ebuo?_ [Are you okay?]” Rudze asked worriedly.

“_A kxadb je._ [I think so.]” Krystal replied breathlessly. 

She looked to the Monarch Dodora, its wings bombarded by her elites and their bombs. It screamed, flying about in a loose circle with fire spewing forth in thin, messy streams. It was tiring—she could feel it. One good hit, perhaps two, would do it in and the Venomians could handle the rest. Smoke still billowing from the Taranis’s left side, the vixen veered to give herself some space. The twisters around the Monarch had begun to wither. There was hope but a gander at her system as it ran a quick check over itself and Krystal feared she would have to land before they could fell the titan.

Rudze pulled his slender Venomian starfighter next to her.

“_Captain, uho oei jiho oei jxeict sedkadio ad kxuk jkuko? Fohxufj no sud jkid ak nakxeik kxo Taranis._ [Captain, are you sure you should continue in that state? Perhaps we can stun it without the Taranis.]” the bear suggested.

“_A te dek kxadb kxuk aj fejjarco._ [I do not think that is possible.]” Krystal said with the shake of her head. “_Av edco kxojo noho fenohot nakx womj, cabo kxo vawxkohj uk xemo. A seict muoro ijo mo jkuvv'j seho ke jkuracaqo ak. Rik ucuj..._ [If only these were powered with gems, like the fighters at home. I could maybe use my staff's core to stabilize it. But alas...]”

The Monarch Dodora began to slow its pace. Its long legs found the top of a massive, thick-trunked tree. Talons wrapping around one of its tallest branches, the Monarch Dodora lifted its battered looking heads, screaming out. Light emitted from both heads. Krystal knew what was coming next.

“Move!” She yelled over every radio as twin jets of flames began to pour out. The Taranis wobbled its way to the right, carried by its uneven weight. She watched Kamroh’s ship spin out of the way, its tail sporting a small cluster of fire. His yelp of alarm over the radio indicated he was fully aware of what was going on.

The Monarch turned its heads every which way, pouring fire onto everything in sight. The tornadoes around it strengthened once more, churning with newfound vigor. Lightning crackled behind the massive bird, outlining its hellish frame. The winds pushed the Taranis but the vixen fought back for control... until she realized the winds were beginning to circulate around the Monarch’s torso. Eyes following the unseen trail of the wind, she flicked the Taranis from moving forward to letting it get buffered by the wind. As the strong gale carried the ship towards the Monarch, she flicked the Taranis so that it moved sideways. She pressed down on the energy beam with all of her might, the wind flinging her rapidly around the Monarch’s body as a central tornado built its way around the titan.

As the air around her began to brown and darken with picked up rubble, tree branches, and dirt, the Taranis’s nose crossed the path of the Monarch’s heads—now or never. The vixen released the trigger when her crosshairs dinged a direct hit was possible. Fire lapped at the bottom of the Taranis’s hull… and then, it ceased as pink light claimed the Monarch. Its screams ringed in her ears, seeping into her mind until she could feel herself screaming along with it, in tandem.

Images of its infernal birth flashed before her eyes—the sight of the ancient world from a dual-headed chick’s eyes as it burst through its white, speckled shell. The clumsiness of a first flight. Always bickering with the other head over who would get to eat first. She saw images of sacrifices, given to the Monarch by the people—young, innocent children tied to stakes and left to be feasted upon. Sometimes the Monarch would oblige. Sometimes the Monarch would not. The vixen felt its chaotic energy—felt its will to live as it succumbed to the jolts of the Venomian ships and fell to an endless web of nets in the forest floor of Fortuna. Defeated, after so many years of destroying others. 

The winds died. Krystal stole the moment not to relish in their victory but to breathe. The others would handle the beast for now. She unfastened her shaking fingers from the controls, letting the Taranis hover awkwardly in the sky. Her teal gaze fell down upon where the Monarch Dodora had fallen, its thrashes weakening… and then ceasing. It was finished. The Venomians had prevailed and the titan was captured.

_ Countless years of tyranny and power mean nothing. Everything falls in the end._

Still numb from her battle, Krystal steered the now lopsided Taranis away from the subdued Monarch. Tree tops still burned from the beast’s fire breath. Black smoke billowed into the sky, so thick that it blotted out visibility on sections of the jungle below. Her heart sank for the fauna that dwelled below, wishing there was something they could do. 

“_Nacc kxo cesucj xuko ij veh kxaj? Aj kxaj dek kxoah wet?_ [Will the locals hate us for this? Is this not their god?]” Kamroh asked curiously. She could see the tiger had steered his fighter to circle above the Monarch Dodora.

“_A te dek kxadb ak aj u jehk ev rodolecodk wet, cabo kxo edoj no uho ijot ke._ [I do not think it is a sort of benevolent god, like the ones we are used to.]” replied Rudze. “_Muoro kxoo nacc ro xuffo ak aj wedo...?_ [Maybe they will be happy it is gone...?]”

“_Nocc A teirk kxoo nacc celo ij veh rihdadw kxoah zidwco if! _[Well I doubt they will love us for burning their jungle up!]” Sedboh remarked caustically.

“Captain, report! We lost several men in combat but we are working to retrieve their escape pods now. The Monarch Dodora has been subdued and we are calling down a Dorisby to store it,” one of the Venomians said, cutting into her communications channel and cutting off whatever else Sedboh had to say.

“Thank you. The Taranis is in bad shape. I am going to return to the Harlock in orbit,” Krystal replied with a firm nod. Swapping to her elites, she said, “_Weet nehb ketuo. A um hokihdadw ke ehrak ke sxosb veh hofuahj. _[Good work today. I am returning to orbit to check for repairs.]” Before the others could reply, the vixen aimed her ship upwards and headed for space.

There was thunderous applause when she landed in the Harlock’s hangar, but she let it wash over her like a wave over stone. Her smile was curt, her nod stiff. Krystal made her way out of the hangar and found solace in the hallway leading to the bridge. It was a quiet place where she could watch the other ships as they came in, cherishing a small breather from social interaction and expectations. An hour alone on the walkway passed before her fingers had stopped trembling. She stared out, instead, to the outside of space, listening through her earpiece the status report of her soldiers. They had lost a few but for the most part, many had come back to the Harlock unscathed. The wounded were rushed to the infirmary. Relief drenched her nerves and she leaned against the wall, pressing her forehead to the cold glass.

_ One mission after the other…_

Krystal watched the stars dash by like streetlights being passed by a speeding car. Tucked into her faded sanguine robes, she kept the cold of space at bay by keeping her arms near her chest, concealed by lengthy sleeves. Her breath fogged the glass. When she had been a kit, she had once loved fogging up the windows, using a finger to doodle quick happy faces in them. Simpler times, those had been. Times before the war had begun and before her people had been…

_ Enslaved?_

No. That was a word that was not permitted. They would have scolded her greatly if they had heard that she had even _thought _that word.

_ Conscripted._

They would earn their freedom and their place under Andross’s reign by doing good works for him. By earning it through their blood and tears. That was the Emperor’s promise, the one she clung to. It made her feel better about all of this. About serving the one who had subjugated them. About the one who had sent their leaders to the guillotines—the ones who had not bent their knee. Their memory choked her for a moment but she suppressed it. Anything to win back freedom. Anything to save her people. 

_ The Emperor is a kind man. He may have conquered all of Cerinia and he may have given us no choice but to participate in his war… but he’s promised us a better future. One where we would not have to worry about Corneria invading us and doing much worse than this._

A pained cry from the infirmary caused her ears to swivel. Another one of the conscripted had been hurt—his name was _Cijkoh_ in Cerinian tongue but the Venomians hated it when they used their birth names for military business, so she called him Luster in front of them, which was the Lylatian equivalent to his true name. The medical team feared his lung was punctured, the result of a bad escape pod crash. He had been one of the ones to fire upon the Monarch when it had stopped its flight—and, in return, its fire jet had caught his ship. Why they had not sedated him yet, she did not know… It had been awhile since they had stocked up on supplies. Surely one of the nurses had not forgotten…? Irate by the thought, the vixen made a mental note to check the supplies herself before they were sent on the next mission. 

Another scream. Her azure fur stood on end but she tried to soothe her quaking nerves with a deep breath. Curtly, she turned and walked away, hoping Luster’s screams would quieten down. Through a series of automatically sliding doors, the vixen stole her way towards the front of the frigate they flew on. It was Macbethian-built, of course, just like the rest of their ships. It made the Cerinian vessels look like ants. 

The bridge was bustling with activity—Venomians and Cerinians alike were scurrying about the walkways. Each chair near the control panels was filled, attentive pilots sitting in each one. The main controls were armed by a Venomian named Lawrence Nasalis, a monkey with a large, flabby nose that had made her chuckle when she had first seen him. Now, she was quite used to it. 

Venom airspace looked like paradise in the wake of warfare. Its tendrils of toxic clouds swirled with alluring, fatal life—beckoning their ship to drift closer into its cruel grasp. Krystal remembered the first time they had brought her here. It felt like a lifetime ago. Once, that blooming flower of Venom had terrified her. But now, it marked the end of a mission—and that meant at least a safe night not aboard a frigate.

The vixen loomed behind the large-nosed pilot with her nails chipping away at the headrest’s fabric. The tips punctured the cushion—a problem for someone else to patch up. Someone who wasn’t her. Krystal breathed in then let out her anxiety in a drawn-out sigh. Her eyes closed and she tried to blot out the image of the Monarch’s fiery breath nearly claiming her and the Taranis. Despite their success, her heart fluttered. Perhaps parts of her still clung to the exhilaration of their mission. 

Her turquoise eyes opened and she knew the expression she wore was melancholy. She tried her best to hide it behind that stern façade she had adopted. Arms crossed over her chest, the vixen stared out at the toxic planet. To her left, she could see the small station of Bolse, drifting in orbit. Usually there would have been more guards standing watch over their poisonous home but the war had driven the Cornerians back to their central planets. The Emperor did not foresee an attack—not for a while yet. The Venomian army had given the dogs too much to think about lately.

“This is Harlock A3E4, requesting docking permissions at Venom City,” the pilot spoke into the radio, stealing away her attention.

“Harlock A3E4, permissions granted,” came the mechanical reply from dispatch. “Sending reception team at once.”

“Roger that.”

_Reception team. That will mean the Emperor, eager to hear of our results the moment we return._

“Captain, how’s Luster holding up?” Lawrence asked her.

“They are working on him now,” Krystal replied airily.

“I see,” Lawrence said with the slight bow of his head, clearly worried. 

Venom’s unholy surface grew to swallow the entire front windows. Its unsettling glow bathed the bridge in a sickly yellow hue. The vixen waited patiently by Lawrence as the monkey put the frigate in orbit. She nodded to him once as a sign of approval, then began towards the docking bay without another word. By the time she had ridden the lift down to the ships, her three elites had already convened in front of their transport ship. They wore matching uniforms—red capes with hoods atop their flight outfits. Their staves were latched securely onto their backs.

“Another success,” remarked Kamroh in Lylatian—ever careful to not do something that would make one of the Venomians look at him twice. “The Emperor will be pleased.”

“That big old bird had nothing on us. And soon, the Cornerians will not either,” added Sedboh, following the tiger’s lead, though he seemed not too pleased by it.

“I hope it makes it to the Emperor’s headquarters soon. I wonder what they will do with it?” Rudze remarked, scratching his chin.

“No idea. Oh, I heard a report on our way in. It would appear Captain Sabre is returning too,” Kamroh said, his red-brown eyes moving to Krystal for a moment.

She felt her neck prickle, heart fluttering again—but, perhaps this time for another reason. It felt like it had been ages since she had last seen her adopted brother. How had his squadron been faring in the war, she wondered. Perhaps they could exchange stories if they got a moment of peace to themselves…

Departure time came slower than she would have liked but soon enough, they boarded the transport shuttle to Venom City. Krystal dwelled in the passenger’s lounge, sitting in the corner with her hands politely in her lap. Though her guard fraternized with each other often, she had opted to maintain a cold distance from them. It was her way of establishing herself as their captain. Closeness on an emotional level threatened the respect they had so she embraced her solitude with a pensive silence, watching Venom grow ever closer with each passing minute. Her fingers wove together, clammy and restless. 

When they drew close enough to the cursed planet’s surface so that the terrain was discernible, Krystal distracted herself by letting her gaze wander over the harsh landscape. In the distance loomed the ruins of a city—abandoned by the Cornerians decades before she was born. A massive dome sat in the distance, its crest crumbled in. The flora around it had begun to take it over slowly—bit by bit. Its base was choked with vines, its halls prowling, no doubt, with the venomous fauna that haunted the surface. Krystal had heard the Cornerians had tried many times to tame Venom. And every time, they had failed. The planet had its own rules it lived by. It was indomitable. So the Cornerians had left, tails tucked between their legs. Defeated.

The Emperor had come to Venom with a different mindset. He did not want to tame her; he wanted to _heal_ her. And perhaps that was why the planet had allowed him to stay. Krystal admired him—not many could win the will of an entire planet. There was… something special about him. Something that radiated within him, like a sun. Perhaps his light would shine over all of the Lylat System, and there could be true peace.

He had been the one to do the impossible—he had made Venom hospitable. The Emperor had invented machines to cleanse the cities and exploration suits for those who wished to go deeper into the wildlands. Of course there were those who could naturally tolerate the toxicity in the air, but they were few and far between—one out of maybe ten thousand. By and large, the Emperor’s innovations had changed their world.

Venom City came into sight before long. Like the shambling dome from before, it had been built by the Cornerians but reclaimed by the Venomians after the exodus. Its buildings were made from the local metals—obsidian in color and glistening with enigmatic beauty. Guarded well by a force field, it sat as a budding hub of economy and ideas. Criss-crossing streets and alleyways wound around the tall buildings. Lights kept the evening darkness at bay. 

The Emperor’s palace sat in the city’s heart—crafted from dark metal and stone. It was an ornament among the sleek skyscrapers. An expert architect had modeled its design after the old Cornerus buildings to the northwest of city limits. Old simian statues were carved and placed at the palace’s four corners—stone-faced sentinels that watched over the Emperor’s headquarters with eternal snarls etched onto their faces. Connected to its easternmost side was the hangar, which was their destination. It was not crafted as artistically, designed, instead, for heavy traffic. Messengers from every corner of the Lylat System frequented the hangar, bringing good and bad news as the Lylat Wars raged on for what seemed like forever. Maybe one day, Krystal hoped, the hangar would be quiet.

Once the force field had lowered for them to make their descent into the palace hangar, Krystal felt her focus return to the present, leaving lofty ideas of a world without the Lylat Wars behind. She glanced to her three elites, their own conversation dying down. Even snarky Sedboh seemed to adopt a newfound somber mien. Though the Emperor had always treated them kindly, they knew better than to set a toe outside of protocol. The Venomians were particular about their rules.

The ship rocked as it touched down in the hangar. Krystal consciously forced herself to unclench her jaw, rising from her seat. The eyes of her subordinates fell on her at once. She had gotten used to their weight long ago.

“After we are done presenting our report to the Emperor,” began Krystal to the other three. “You will be free to return to your homes here for the night. Make sure you cherish being able to do this. Not everyone is gifted that opportunity in war.” To the pilot that had taken them down from the mothership, she said, “We have a few wounded on board. If they can get medical attention planetside, I would be most appreciative.” Though her words were polite, her voice was firm—indicating a lack of choice on the pilot’s part. There was only a nod in reply.

An entourage greeted them as they departed the ship. Dusk had fallen upon Venom City, the warm air churned by a nighttime breeze. It brushed through her azure hair, billowing back her bangs. Six guards stood in a row, lined with their rifles held so that their noses pointed at the heavens. Their bodies were encased in metallic power armor, fueled by neon pink energy that coursed from small metal backpacks into their limbs. They stood three on each side, forming a pathway for the lone figure at the end to walk down. 

The vixen could not hide her surprise when she realized that the one waiting for them was not the Emperor. Her teal gaze trailed down a few feet to a smaller, lithe silhouette framed by the blaringly bright artificial hangar lights. Apprehensive, Krystal expanded her senses, trying to feel out the other’s aura. The sting of frost struck her as familiar and she lowered her head, ears back. 

_ The Master Tactician. The one who led the armies against Cerinia all those years ago. Sasha Powalski._

Sasha Powalski stood with her slender arms tucked behind her back, causing her sharp shoulder pads to frame her body like an upside-down triangle. She walked curtly, her angled chin level and unwavering with each precise step. Her expression was severe—but that was common for her and really, common for all born Venomians. Down her snout, she glared at the Cerinians, her tail curled.

“Team Kursed,” the Master Tactician spoke with the rigidness of mountaintops and the cold of winter. “Your arrival to Venom City is most welcome.”

“We come bearing victorious news,” Krystal said with a small, courteous bow. “The war goes well. We have just returned from Fortuna. A Dorisby containing the Monarch Dodora should be ready to land on Venom at a moment’s notice.”

“Excellent. I will see to it that they have permissions to land. We will be taking the Monarch Dodora away from the city, to a station on the far side of the Deadlands,” Sasha informed her curtly.

“The Emperor is eagerly awaiting you in his throne room. Come. Let us not keep him further,” Sasha continued, nodding to the vixen. She gave pause, then said to the other Cerinians. “Your presence will not be necessary. Just the captain’s. You are dismissed.” She dismissively waved her own guards away as well.

Krystal followed the Master Tactician to the tall set of doors leading from the hangar to the palace. Being separated from her team gave her mild anxiety but she told herself this was another routine debriefing—just another part of the job she had been given. She did not toss the other Cerinians a single look as the doors opened, but felt their absence the moment the doors shut behind her. 

The interior was a dreary black and marbled green combination. Pillars of jade and white supported the ceiling, busy square patterns carved into their tops and bases. The faint lighting from above felt like a dull green shower over the arched corridors. Braziers sat in the corners, burning green fire amid clusters of blackened Macbethian coal. Krystal recalled the first time she had been brought to the palace. Its aura had always felt peculiar to her, as if the carved walls housed mysteries she both wanted and did not dare try to unravel. Magic like from Cerinia dwelled here—magic that stifled the air, magic so strong that she could _taste_ it. 

Venomian guards and workers passed through the halls, their voices hushed as to not disturb the palace’s solemnity. She could feel thoughts circulating like small tornadoes but dared not to reach out to them, despite her curiosity. Instead, her eyes crawled over the hallways, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her adopted brother. 

When the elevator came into sight, her hopes were dashed. The vixen watched Sasha punch the button in the control panel to summon their ride, her hands swiftly tucking into her draping sleeves. The chameleon’s carnelian eyes remained fixed ahead of her, expression unreadable. Krystal had heard the Venomians that had been born on the planet had lived a feral life among the Cornerian ruins—picking at the scraps the dogs had left behind and fashioning crude ships from wreckage to initiate trade. She tried to think of Sasha in such an environment and could not picture it. Someone had once told her the original Venomians had to change their names when they enlisted into the army. Something about them being too hard to pronounce—the vixen could relate. 

When the elevator dinged, Krystal was jerked from her thoughts. The twin dark metal doors opened and the Master Tactician walked in. Krystal followed, the doors shutting behind her. The lift began to move. Sasha Powalski said nothing, staring blankly ahead. The vixen followed suit.

A second ding announced their arrival. A lengthy hallway greeted them, a red carpet stretched from the elevator door to the desk at the end of the hall. Twin windows sat at the very back, displaying the skyline of Venom City. Krystal found it a pleasant sight but it was not her destination. She followed Sasha to a smaller room on the lefthand side, its door situated between two paintings. The first was an image of the Deadlands and a volcano in mid-eruption. The second was a painting of the Emperor regally sitting upon his throne with a solemn expression. Krystal thought it was quite good, the details immaculate.

The Master Tactician opened the glass door to the left, which led directly into the meeting chamber. A long black table made up the room’s center, flanked by a dozen chairs on each side. Krystal’s gaze flitted about the room quickly, taking in the others that were in the meeting. 

She recognized the four members of Star Wolf instantly – Wolf, Leon, Pigma, and Algy. They wore their matching black and red flightsuits, made along the same vein as her own. Their capes were longer, dusting the floor behind them. Shoulder pads jutted out from beneath the cochineal cloth, lined with punkish spikes. Wolf leaned back in his chair, boots unceremoniously resting on the table. Leon looked the mirror of his sister, coldly staring at the intruding Sasha and Krystal with narrowed eyes. Pigma grinned haughtily at them, winking at the vixen. She noticed his arm was bandaged and he was sporting a purple bruise beneath one eye. Algy’s large eyes rolled and he drummed his fingers against the table.

Prince Andrew sat at the far end of the table, in the leftmost seat. He wore a princely red and white outfit, a golden circlet on his head. Lower lip puffed out in a small, concentrated pout, his golden eyes searched the tactician and vixen both as they hunted down appropriate seats. Krystal had scarcely been around the simian princeling but she had heard his temper flared more often than even volatile Solar. 

Krystal’s gaze fell onto the Emperor, who took up the head of the table. He was clad in traditional black robes with a wide crimson collar. Rubies lined the middle of his robes, fixated upon the cloth with gold. His pointed ears peered through a mane of silver-white hair, which had been groomed back into a long ponytail that ran down his spine in an elegant cascade. His beard was combed and styled with braids, trimmed symmetrically to a point that met at his chin. Light freckling on his face betrayed his prestigious appearance—as did the small wrinkles beneath his honey brown eyes.

“Captain Krystal,” the Emperor spoke with reverence she felt she was not due. He smiled at her. “I am overjoyed to see your return. You were…” His smile broadened. She could see his fangs. “… successful, I hope?”

“My liege,” Krystal said with a bow. “Yes. We have come bearing victorious news and a full report on the mission.”

“Excellent,” the Emperor’s joy relieved her. He gestured to the table before him. “Please, join us.”

On his other side, her eyes fell on two familiar faces. 

_ Father! Sabre!_

Randorn sat on the Emperor’s right, his tiredness evident even from a distance. His eyes seemed sunken into his skull, shadowed with dark thoughts. His russet fur seemed disheveled around the nape, sticking out awkwardly from his Venomian commander’s outfit. As she neared the old wolf, she could scent the vaguest hint of vodka from his fur. Krystal masked her revulsion, knowing that joining the Venomian cause had never been easy for him. But this was what was better off for the Lylat System. Unity under one lord. One who saw the bigger picture.

Sabre, in contrast, looked just as she had left him all those months ago. Broad-chested and strong, he sat next to his father, verdant green eyes brightening when he caught sight of her. His striped tail wagged, thumping against the leg of the chair. His smile was quick and inviting. Without a second thought, she took up the seat next to him.

“Welcome back, Sis,” Sabre whispered to her.

“Hey,” Krystal replied equally as quietly. 

“My liege,” Sasha Powalski said with a graceful dip of her head as she approached the Emperor’s side. “Reports from Granga have come in. He is personally escorting the virus to the Satellite Defense Platform with a series of troops. We should have full control of the station within 24 hours.”

“He is flying it directly there?” the Emperor asked warily.

“Yes, my liege. It seems the Cornerians have dispatched their forces further out, leaving gaps that we can pass through,” Sasha informed him.

“How auspicious,” mused the Emperor. “It seems the Cornerians are too focused on reclaiming their lost planets to care about their precious defense platform.”

“If… I may, sir,” Wolf O’Donnell spoke up. One of his tattered ears flitted back. “Corneria’s sent their troops further out but they’ve been hiring help lately. We ran into their latest set of goons on our way back from Eladard.”

“Is that why Pigma looks worse than he usually does?” Andrew piped up from the front of the table. 

“Heh, at least I got an excuse,” the swine remarked with a savage glare to the simian prince, who replied with a ‘hmph!’ and a set of folded arms across his chest.

“Andrew,” the Emperor chided his successor lightly, then looked to Wolf. “I will hear your report… in a moment. Captain Krystal, you said you were successful?”

“Yes,” the vixen reported. “The Monarch Dodora has been captured and is ready to be transported at your leisure, my liege.”

Emperor Andross’s smile was genuine… but it held danger. Danger and _thought_. She watched the cogs turn in his eyes, felt his content radiate like a sun’s rays. But this was just a step in a massive plan. Just a little item off his checklist. 

“The Monarch Dodora is said to be one of the oldest creatures in the Lylat System,” the Emperor remarked thoughtfully. “It has survived on sheer power alone… what devastation could it wrought if equipped appropriately and released in a city that knows not how to deal with such power…?” His clawed fingers toyed with a strand of silvery white hair in his beard.

_ Corneria City._

She did not like the thought of millions dying. But this was war. Sometimes… bad things had to be done. 

“You have done well, Captain. I am pleased,” the Emperor praised her and his words washed over her like warmth. She smiled but could not find an adequate reply to give, and so she merely nodded to him appreciatively. The Emperor looked to Randorn. “And, to go along with this news, you say that Astropolis will be ready for launch in a week’s time?”

“Yes,” Randorn said in his rugged tones. “A week’s time, with luck on our side.”

_ The launch of the new space fortress, the Monarch’s capture, and the virus… Corneria does not have a chance. Not now._

“Eladard and Titania have both fallen to our rule—thanks to Star Wolf and Captain Sabre. I daresay we may expect a surrender from General Pepper by the end of the month, at this rate,” the Emperor’s fanged smile glistened in the dim lighting. “Wolf… what was it you were saying?”

“Well,” Wolf began uncertainly. “Seems like General Pepper’s hired out a team to try to stop us. And it’s not your average half-drunk Papetoonian crop duster pilot either. It’s the Star Fox team.”

_ Star Fox?_

The tone of the room shifted instantly—as though a darkened thunderhead had blotted out the blue of the sky. She could feel the Emperor’s animosity like a sour taste in the back of her mouth that just could not quite go away. The vixen’s ears went back and she exchanged a quick, uncertain look with Sabre, who seemed equally perturbed. Her gaze moved to the Emperor, the lines in his face deepened by shadow and hatred. He sat in his long-backed chair with pursed lips and a furrowed brow. Malice ebbed from him.

There was something here. A story. The vixen did not dare ask. She caught the Emperor’s side-eyed glance to Pigma, who seemed to have paled slightly.

“I thought you said James McCloud was dead,” the Emperor said quietly.

“He… he is,” Pigma said quickly. “It’s um… it’s his son.”

“Son…” the Emperor echoed.

“And Peppy, sir. You might remember him. The rabbit,” Pigma added squeakily.

“You got bested by a bunny?” Andrew sneered.

“Well, it wasn’t just a bunny,” Algy retorted back. “The fox’s got a whole crew. Six pilots total. Guess they picked up some Academy dropouts.”

“Six?” the Emperor’s brow raised.

“Their number matters not,” Leon chimed in. “The next time we see them, we will defeat them.”

“And we’ll make sure they hurt the whole time!” Algy added, shaking a fist.

“Silence!” the Emperor snapped, turning his gaze to Wolf. “Taking Star Fox down will be your highest priority. We cannot allow them to undo what work we have already done. Captain Sabre. I am deploying you as support for the Star Wolf team. You and your forces are to assist them in any way possible. Understood?”

Krystal could sense Sabre’s reluctance but his response was as crisp and sharp as ever.

“Yes, my liege.”

“I look forward to havin’ you and your elites on my ship,” Wolf remarked to the Cerinian warrior.

_ Deployed again so soon? I guess this is war but I was hoping we could at least be together. Even if it’s just the three of us for a few days…_ She tried to catch Randorn’s eye but the old wolf was too busy taking a swig from his flask. He rubbed his snout with the back of his hand, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. The vixen’s heart sank. He was a far cry from his former self. A shadow of the Cerinian wizard he had once been.

“My liege! A report from Granga,” Sasha Powalski announced, typing into a large silver bracelet on her left wrist. A small hologram appeared—too small for Krystal to discern what was happening.

“Put it on the projector,” the Emperor said hastily and the Master Tactician obliged him a few moments later, pulling up the image of a great space battle in the center of the table. 

“The Star Fox team,” Wolf said darkly, looking to the Emperor. “You want us to deploy?”

“You would not make it in time and you know it!” Sasha snapped back.

The hologram switched from a view of a clash between Venomian Dorisby-class carriers and fleet starfighters to a list of profiles. The first face was a hare—his eyes were sad, she noticed. They reminded her of Randorn in a way—eyes that had seen too much. The fur near his nose had started to become shaggy, like a mustache. If he had not been flying for the enemy, she might have thought he was a kind, older gentleman.

The next face was that of a frog. He looked jovial—the spirit of happiness. The beads around his nape were impressively large, reminiscent of pearls that would wash up on the shores back on Cerinia. His smile stretched the entire width of his face. It was hard to think of him as an enemy.

Third came the bird, his plumage a deep, ocean blue with red markings. The way he smiled felt like fire. Beautiful to look at. Painful to be near. He seemed mischievous. She wondered what he was doing on the Cornerian’s side. 

Next was a feline, her ears standing tall and large. A single golden hoop adorned one ear. She grinned toothily, hands crossed over her chest. Her muscles were not hidden well by her flightsuit—they bulged against the fabric. Krystal wondered if she perhaps was the strongest of their team.

Then came the dog—a girl who looked ill-fit to be part of a mercenary gang. The vixen suspected the fluffy dog was more at home playing tea parties than fighting in the middle of a war… but there was something steely behind her sapphire eyes. Something that Krystal resonated with.

And then last was the fox. The moment his picture appeared, she felt her jaw clench instinctively. He was handsome. She loathed herself for thinking it. His cocksure smirk was… likeable, but she cut the thought off there. He was an enemy. An enemy that enraged the Emperor. An enemy that would soon lie dead in his own blood.

“Krystal?” Sabre asked quietly.

“Hm?” the vixen asked, jerking away from her thoughts.

“Yep, that’s them,” Wolf said, drowning out Sabre’s whispers. Krystal cast a glance towards the pirate on the other side of the table. He wore a nasty scowl upon his maw. “The new Star Fox team. Bring back any memories, Pigma?”

“Fox is a good pilot, but he ain’t no James McCloud,” Pigma said reassuringly to the Emperor, who seemed to be stewing in his own dark thoughts.

“So this is your play, Pepper…” the Emperor growled, his fists balled and resting angrily on the flat surface of the table. “You must’ve known we would target your defense systems first, and left the gap…” His words dissolved into low guttural growls, fists tightening.

_ I have never seen the Emperor this angry before. _

“My liege,” Sasha said quietly, her nervous orange eyes flitting from the hologram of the battle to her lord’s troubled face. “What order shall I give?”

The Emperor’s eyes followed the image of a Dorisby bursting into flames under the heavy laser fire of two Star Fox team members. His teeth bared angrily and he swatted the image away. “Star Wolf. Sabre. Deploy immediately. Even if we are too late to save the virus’s transport system, we can at least catch them off guard after the battle.”

“As you wish,” Sabre said with a bow, then rose from his chair. His emerald eyes found Krystal’s for a moment, speaking a silent, remorseful goodbye to her. 

“We’ll get it done,” Wolf vowed. His three wingmates rose from their chairs and the five of them departed hastily. Krystal felt her heart sank as the door closed behind them.

“Randorn, continue your work on Astropolis. Andrew, go oversee the latest batch of soldiers graduating from the academy. I have a feeling we will need to deploy them soon,” the Emperor said hastily. “Sasha, keep me appraised of the situation as updates roll in. Krystal…” He looked at her, faltering for a moment. “I know you have just arrived in Venom City, but I have orders for you. Orders that could turn the tide of the war.”

“Anything you command, my lord,” Krystal said, words flowing from her lips effortlessly, as they had so many times before.

“You have done well to bring me the Monarch Dodora. I must ask that you replicate your efforts on yet another mark,” the Emperor instructed her. Randorn slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him—abruptly in front of Andrew, who scowled at the wolf’s retreating form. Sasha remained but busily listened to the report coming in through an earchip.

“I apologize sir. I should have clarified in my report. The Taranis is out of commission,” Krystal said, head lowering.

“That is well. Technology is an industry that ever moves and improves. The Taranis Mark II is already completed. I think you will find it better suited for ah… the _wet_ environment that I am going to be sending you to,” the Emperor informed her.

“Wet… sir?” Krystal asked.

“Come with me,” the Emperor bade her to follow him out of the conference room. She obeyed without question, following him through the glass door and into the long room outside. 

The Emperor used a ruby-topped cane as he walked. She did not notice him lean into it, even as he climbed the three stairs up towards his desk near the large windows. Outside, Venom City had fallen under night’s enigmatic spell. Lights from the buildings illuminated the buildings in an array of reds, blues, yellows, and greens. The Emperor moved past his chair, looking out at the lights. She could no longer sense the malice from before and felt herself lower her guard and tension. 

“What do you know of the planet Aquas?” the Emperor asked her, looking out at the night around them.

“Aquas. It is an old planet, sir. It is said that once it thrived with a civilization that was very economically well-off. But one day, everything fell into the ocean, leaving not a trace of civilization left,” Krystal replied.

“ ‘Everything fell into the ocean’…” repeated the Emperor with a wry smile. “That is not terribly inaccurate… is that what they told you back on Cerinia?”

Her blood ran cold at the sound of her homeworld’s name upon his tongue. Was this a trap? She could divine no sensation of evil emitting from him and quickly withdrew her mental reach. The vixen’s hands became fists at her side, her posture stiffening. Her reflection in the glass stared evenly back at her from a distance—daring her to say the wrong thing. Daring her to mess everything up.

“You may speak freely, Captain,” the simian encouraged her, surprisingly gentle.

“They said that something caused everything to fall into the ocean,” Krystal clarified slowly. “A… monster of sorts. Bacoon.”

“Ahhh, so they did know the truth about that, did they?” the Emperor smirked, looking back at her. “The Cornerians never taught that in schools, did you know that? Always afraid that it would scare people off from trying to move there if the colonization efforts did in fact reach that far. But I should have known better about the Cerinians. Your people always embrace the truth.”

He paused, looking back at the skyline. She did not know how to follow up with that statement, so she nodded, trying desperately to sense his intentions here—and maintain subtlety.

“I admire Cerinia. I always have. Your people held the strongest power known in the Lylat System. Did you know that? Power so great that the Cornerians were on the cusp of invading to steal it away. That is… how they work, after all,” the Emperor said. He turned again, glancing back at her with one honeyed eye. “They take what they want. And they destroy what is left… of everything. And everyone.” 

_ And that is why we must fight. To prevent a future where we are all prisoners to such tyranny._

“You must hate me for what I did to Cerinia. But trust me when I say it will all be worth it in the end,” the Emperor said softly. 

“I… sir. I do not…” the vixen found herself fumbling, looking at those tired, aching eyes. “I do not hate you, sir. I… admire you.”

The Emperor’s brows rose in surprise.

“Everything you have done here. Venom prospers in a way it never has before,” Krystal explained. “And though you conquered my homeland, I see that it was for a noble cause. A pure intention. You have a dream that we will be safe from the Cornerian threat. And I… I want to see that dream made into a reality.”

She thought of the faces from the hologram. The Star Fox team. They seemed so pure too. Maybe the Cornerians were fooling them, playing them like fiddles. Maybe they were just victims in this cruel, savage war…? The vixen shook the thought away, feeling that path too treasonous to continue. She smiled at the Emperor as he approached her. 

“Krystal. Take the Taranis II. Go to Aquas and seek out Bacoon. Its power coupled with the Monarch Dodora will see us through any threat the Cornerians could pose,” the Emperor instructed her. One of his hands rested on her shoulder—warm to the touch, surging with power. He bent forward, whispering into her ear. “Do this for me, Krystal, and Cerinia will see its freedom all the sooner.”

Freedom for Cerinia. Freedom from the Venomians rules. Freedom from the Cornerians and their greed. Freedom… How long had it been since she was free? Free to smile, free to be called by her real name… free to go home to her family, broken as it was, to break bread and laugh together. Eyes alight like twin teal fires, the vixen looked to the Emperor then knelt, bowing her head.

“Your will be done, my lord.”


End file.
